Blood circulation
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Spoiler for 3.6 Vezon's prompt on LJ: "Jane knows a very good way to get Lisbon's blood moving again" and when they almost kiss, they have to aknowledge the real extension of their feelings. Is Jane ready to give on up revenge and fall in love again? 4o4
1. Pink Chanel Suit

Disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real... I just _"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed by the light of reason..." _(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)- I'm thinking about doing few vodoo on him as well, you don't know how things could work out...

So, a little something my mind elaborated in answer to vezon's prompt on cbi headquarter on Lj- spoiler for 3.6, you are advised!

* * *

They were waiting under a table, hidden in the dark, close, a way too close for comfort, but Jane hadn't been able to resist. At first, he had got that close by accident, but as soon as he had heard the breath dying in her throat, the heat coming from her body, and her heart speeding up at his unwanted touch, he had to stay that way, feeling her, so close, so alive… and he couldn't help but grin, satisfied. He had always known that Lisbon had a thing for him, but she had always hidden it, denied it, even. Now, that he had physical evidence of it, she could no longer…

"If you are wrong yet again it will be hell for my career, and as much as you may be gold for the department, you'll be kicked off the CBI as well, because Hightower will already be outside waiting to kick your ass, and I'll be glad to help her out on this one" she whispered, snapping furious at him, at closed eyes, trying to forget how close Patrick Jane was to her, and how good he smelt, a unique cologne (probably not an aftershave, since it looked like he hadn't shaved in the morning) something that looked like pine and wild musk, which was weird, because she had always thought of him more like a sea kind of guy, and feeling the mountain's smells on him… it's kind of reassuring, though, in a weird and twisted way, it's like his scent could made her relax, made her forget that in that moment, they were hidden under a table to arrest a killer: no, in that moment, while she had her eyes closed and he was on top of her, they were cuddling together somewhere else, enjoying themselves, enjoying life, thinking about not a killer obsessed in destroying his life, but thinking about creating a life where there could be space for the both of them, together.

She hated when she did that, forgetting who they were and what they were supposed to do, how they were supposed to act towards each other, but, with Jane, sometimes, it was so simple forgetting… he was fun, easy going (when he wanted), charming, smart, brilliant, and so damn handsome. If she had to be honest, the first thing that made her fall for him had been his look: she had never felt the urge to run her fingers through someone's hair at first sight, but as soon as she had met Jane, made speechless by his trademark smile, as soon as she had seen that blonde curls, and those cerulean eyes, and those lips… she had to remember herself that Minelli was there, and that she wasn't a stupid child, in order to not jump on him, and kiss him and run her fingers through his hair…

"A, as I said, what are the chances of me being wrong twice in a row?" he asks her, awakening her from her reverie, his breathing hot as it tickled the soft and receptive sweet spot on her neck, and she so could feel him grinning satisfied on her skin, the subtle hint of beard (_Don't think about how hot and sexy it his on a man, Teresa, don't, just don't…)_ tickling her neck… she started to moan, both for the desire awakened in her vein by him and his presence at her side, so close, so alive, so… Jane, and for the discomfort, because she could really feel her legs any longer. God, she hated stake-outs… how was she supposed to run after and chase suspects, when her legs were failing her? And Jane was making her life miserable, on top of everything! Not that she minded that sweet torture, quite the contrary, having him that way was better that not having him at hall, but, maybe, it had been in the security and privacy of her closed and sealed office, she'd be more happy… "B, that's not gonna work unless you're quiet" he told her, quite annoyed, and a bit mad, but never letting it go of her, his hands still steady on her petite form, feeling her under his fingerprints- he hoped that she thought he was skimming over the bare skin between her pants and her shirt by accident, or, otherwise, in few minutes a very important and vital part of his anatomy was going to be missing.

"I can't be quiet! My legs are asleep!" she hissed, turning in that sort of embrace, her cheeks pressed against the soft material of his white shirt and grey three pieces, making her blush furthermore, a color that deepened again in few seconds time, with the knowledge that Jane could see it and, probably, since she was the translucent one, guess why he was making her sort of speechless and behaving in that weird way….

"What do you mean your legs are asleep? Legs don't sleep, it's absurd, and I don't understand why people say that…" even if he was talking kind of out aloud, it was clear that his monologue was more internal, or, maybe, thought to drive her mad more-after all, her answer to his crazy statement had been rolled eyes, and she still remembered a time when Jane had told her that she was extremely cute when she did that, so, if he enjoyed that reaction, maybe he had done it on purpose, in order to get that reaction from her… or maybe she was just reading too much into that, because, with her damn crush on the man, she kept seeing things that weren't there, ad tell things that she wasn't allowed to say, because they weren't (he wasn't) ready to face the consequences of said speeches (like that time she had told him, just few months before "you're pulling away from me, and I know that you are scared of losing me, because you think that everyone that come close to you gets hurt, but I'm a cop, I'm always in harm's way, I can defend myself"; only later she realized both how wrong she had been, and what had happened to Bosco proved it, and how much of her feelings she gave away, but in that moment, she had needed to say it, to get him back in their lives, and she just hoped that the events of the last months had shaken him enough to avoid him from finding out the truth)

"Here, let me take care of it…" he whispered, so low that Lisbon barely heard him, with his breathing still hot on her skin, as his hands left the spots where they were previously busy, and moved south, lifting the legs of her pants, rolling down the socks, and starting to massage her skin with known and calculated gestures to restore the circulation, slow, loving, tender and caring and so damn erotic caresses… she couldn't deny that Jane knew a very good way to get her blood moving again… for a second, she thought it was foreplay for something that required much less clothes on and much more privacy and time at their disposal… (_Don't think about Jane and sex, don't think about having sex with Jane, don't associate the word sex and Jane, stop thinking how much of a great lover he definitely is, Teresa, just, drop it, will you?) _

Suddenly, as he went on with his ministrations on her legs (moving his hands further north, in direction of her thighs, sometimes on bare skin, sometimes on soft and thin fabric) she didn't know exactly why and how, but she had ended up in his lap, and, when she turned her face to look at him, she realized two things: first, even if he was grinning, there was a small shadow of doubt, of insecurity (or maybe it was even curiosity) on his face, while his eyes, those marvelous cerulean eyes of the same shade of his car, those eyes that she kept dreaming of at night, were dark with desire… second, his lips were so close to her owns, their faces were so close that she could feel loud and clear his now erratic breathing, and they were practically nuzzling each other…

She couldn't resist any longer, she simply had to give up. She knew it was a risk, but she had to let him know, in some way, how she felt. She knew it was probably the best way to ruin whatever they had going on, was it friendship or just partnership, but she couldn't go on this way. She couldn't go on with Jane keeping alienating himself from them, from her, she couldn't go on with Jane flirting with other women, making them fall for him, and she couldn't go on just to see him dating some damn woman who obviously just wanted to have some fun at his expenses and didn't give a damn about Patrick.

Without closing her eyes, to test his reaction, Lisbon moved closer to him, clutching like for dear life at his shirt, scared, but brave enough to be sure of what she was doing. He was mimicking her movements, getting closer and closer, their lips already skimming over each other, when they heard a sound coming from the door, and they stopped where they were…

"Damn" he muttered as soon as he felt the lack of contact with Teresa, already missing it, already addicted to heat irradiated from her body. She smiled, giggling in silence as a schoolgirl, as she realized that he was totally in that, and that he was sorry that they hadn't had the opportunity to take that step, blocked by the arrival of the killer himself, busy trying to hide the body in the same place Jane had been sure it was in the first place, the grandmother's coffin. "Let me clarify this, woman, we're definitely going to continue that discussion later, in your office!" he whispered to her, taking his cell ready to move on with their plane, pointing a finger at her, serious, his voice low, sensual and husky, but with a note of malice in his eyes that he wasn't even trying to mask.

Somehow, for once, she couldn't wait to have Jane in her office, all for herself alone. ...

* * *

sequel, anyone?


	2. Red Blooded Man

Disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real... I just _"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed by the light of reason..." _(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)- I'm thinking about doing few vodoo on him as well, you don't know how things could work out...

A/n: So,you wanted a part two, right? well, guess what- you're going to get a story not in one, not in two, not in 3 but in 4 chapters! (yes, I know, I'm pretty great... just kidding.)

anyway, I'm sorry for the delay, but work and life are work and life, and they have both been a complete and utter chaos, recently-still has, though. so, be patient, and, well, when I wrote it down on my ring binder (I'm a snetiemntal, I still so love to write on ring binders, especially if the papers are squared!) it wasn't that long, eck, It was shorter than chapter one! but, as I was typing it on my laptop, I kept adding and adding, and so here we are...

By the way, you wanted and increasing in the rating. and I decided to follow your advise. the rating will not be M, though, but only T, because, I'm not planning of putting full sex in this one; there will be hints, and "sexual situations", but not sex (you'll see as you'll keep reading, beleive me..) anyway, end of A/N, so, let's get it done with!

* * *

Questioning Doctor Ed Saban until the early hours of the morning had been a blessing for Lisbon, _almost. _The man was a sick bastard, who obviously didn't give a damn about the Hippocratic Oath, but, as bad as it had been listening to his sorry excuses, at least it gave her time to think, or, to be more accurate, to _not think_, about what had _almost _happened between her and Jane.

_Good Lord, please help me… _She couldn't believe she had been that stupid to give it away everything that easily, she couldn't believe she had almost confessed the man her feelings were a way more than platonic, she had almost given up to temptation….

_Good Lord, now I'll never hear the end of this. Figures if Jane will keep it quiet about the fact that I basically lust after him… _she thought as she grunted incoherently, moving to leave the office, only to stop in trance once arrived at the door, all because of the sight that was presenting itself in front of the dark haired agent, on the other side of the glass…

The first emotion that ran through Lisbon's heart was happiness: Jane was resting on his couch like he used to do before his encounter with Red John few months prior. She took it like a good sign, like he was silently showing that he was trying to move past it, to not alienate himself from the unit, and her, not any longer.

The second emotion she felt was confusion, mixed with sadness and rage (and a taste of jealousy). As she saw the scene taking place in front of her, she didn't know what to make of Jane's behavior, how she was supposed to react, what she was supposed to feel. She felt like her heart was shattering in millions of pieces, everyone of them going into a different direction, each one of them trying to make her and her rationality follow its path, she felt like her feeling were controlling her, and she didn't like it. She wasn't used to it.

Jane, the same man who had tried to make put with her just few hours prior, had kissed Hightower. Patrick Jane had kissed Madeline Hightower, innocently, and on the cheek, that was sure, making her speechless and blushing. It had been quick and nonchalant and only on the cheek, but it had been a kiss nevertheless, and it still counted. And he knew it, since she had already told him, that time, a couple of years prior, when he had kissed Sophie Miller thank you and goodbye at the same time. But he had still made it, kissing Hightower, and it still hurt because he _wasn't supposed _to kiss other women, especially after he had _almost _kiss her on the lips not too long before…

_Oh, please, whom am I trying to kid? It obviously didn't mean anything to him. Patrick Jane never gave a damn about Teresa Lisbon the woman or he'd already made a move by now. He was just being his usual self-center asshole, using people for his own goals. He was just trying to charm his way into me to get away with that huge mistake he had done, and preventing the use of lethal force on my side if he was incorrect again. After all, he had never shown interest in moving on before, not for real, at least. Frye doesn't count, everybody knows he was doing it to prove Hightower wrong… I mean, I didn't give a damn when he dated her, I wasn't worried about it, not that I particularly care about his love live, just for his general wellbeing. I knew nothing was going to happen between them, or he'd removed the band, but he didn't… he still wears it._

"Lisbon?" she stopped, immobile, as their eyes met, blue melting into green, making Teresa realize that she had been so lost in her small and personal Jane-world that she hadn't noticed the presence of the real deal in front of her, a real deal that wasn't grinning as usual, but fixing his gaze on her, worried and with lifted questioning eyebrows… she blushed in a dark shade of red, feeling hot, when she wondered if Jane was gifting her with such an unusual expression because he was reflecting on their little encounter under the table at the Judge's mansion, if, maybe, deep down he was reflecting on the night's events as well…

"Were you leaving?" Lisbon felt like the land was shattering under her feet, fireworks exploding with the force of a million of suns… she was almost sure that what she was hearing in Jane's voice was concern and disbelief. _Did he really mean it? Did he really want to finish that "chat"?_ _Was he looking forward to?_

"What? Oh, no, I still have at least an hour before to call it a night. I was just going to grab a coffee, caffeine keeps me going, you know. But it doesn't matter, it can wait. The coffee, I mean." She tried to explain, studding a little, feeling the heat in her cheeks and butterflies in her stomach as she retreated back to the safety of her office and of her desk, hoping that he'd take residence, as usual, on the red couch in the corner, or even the chair in front of her desk. Yep, she could deal with having Jane in front of her. Or maybe, even better, he could get the message that she had work to do and get lost, and retreat back to _his own _couch, so that she could think about a decent way of talking, or not talking, about what had happened and may had happened between them, or, at least, a way of dealing with the "issue" without damaging his feelings too much, _if he had any feelings for me at all, _and, more important, without giving away too much about her own feelings _yeah, sure, like it could even be possible. He is the great and almighty mentalist, and I'm Miss Translucent… _

She soon realized she wasn't going to have any of it, as he decided that, of all the places he could choose to stay in her office, sitting on her desk, at her right, was the best option available… he was grinning, amused, with an expression that was a mix between the "cat got the canary" look and his (in) famous Cheshire cat grin, and… _Good Lord…_ well, apparently, in the few moments between _the damn kiss_ with Hightower and him breaking in inside her sancta sanctorum, while she had been far, far away with her own mind Jane-world, he had managed to lose two layers of clothes (vest and jacket, both nowhere in sight) to roll up his sleeves, free the pale blue stripped shirt from the trousers and unbuttoned the first three top buttons of said shirt… he looked so… with the unshaved, lightly tanned skin, out of bed blonde curly hair, she could only describe him as free, at easy, sexy, wild and alive. And if it wasn't enough, the glimpses she was having of his chest were just sending her brain into overdrive, making her remember vivid dreams she had from a while, both an night and at open eyes, concerning the two of them, no clothes, the office, the bed (and even her kitchen table in few occasions) and sweating and entangled and satisfied naked bodies… _Why do I always have to associate Patrick Jane with either kittens or sordid images of our bodies, completely naked and busy with sex?_

"I know what to do!" he exclaimed happy, like a baby on a sugar rush, clapping his hands with such an enthusiasm that she got scared. He positioned himself at her back, and started to massage her neck, her shoulder, her back, and her sides with well known and expert movements, soft touches from light fingers that burnt the skin they skimmed over. She knew she was supposed to relax, but how could she, with Jane doing what he was doing, after what had _almost _happened between them just few hours before?

"Geez, woman, the whole reason behind this massage was making you relax, not tense even more!" he chuckled, falsely annoyed, clearly enjoying the little game that was going on between them, not making fun at Lisbon's expenses as she thought he would have. No, Jane was really trying to put her at easy, because there wasn't anything he wanted more than alleviating the tension between them. He knew it was something they both needed, because, if on her side, she was (still) tense under his touch, on his side, he was, for the first time in a lot of years, at loss of words.

Jane knew that he had to do something about what was going on between them before it was too late. He was aware that he was being selfish and a glutton, but he couldn't help it. He had to act on his feelings, show her how he felt, even if he knew it wasn't right and it was risky (mostly for her), he couldn't suppress them any longer, the feelings, the attraction… he shouldn't, wasn't supposed to, he knew it, oh, he was well aware of this simple but yet so important fact! He had been aware of the effect he had on her from a while (was it just physical attraction or deeper feelings, he still didn't know it for sure, even if he doubted _his_ Lisbon could just desire a man for his mere appearance) and he had deep feelings for her, a great affection that went beyond mere friendship, and he knew he wasn't supposed to put her life in jeopardy like that, because that was what loving Lisbon, starting something with her, would mean: putting her life, the life of the new, shiny toy, (as Stiles would have probably called her) in jeopardy, a life for Red John to take, steal from him and the world…

But he really couldn't fight it any longer; last night, when they had practically screamed that their feelings were beyond platonic, it had been the proverbial last drop, and, even considering the possibility that it was just physical attraction (which he doubted), there was just that much that a red blooded man like he was could handle. And he couldn't stand the thought of _his Lisbon _with someone else, was he Bosco, Mashburn, the "hot mailroom guy", Bertram's assistant (who kept checking her out and hitting on her since the first time they met, hence the extreme dislike and the dead mouse in the suit thing) or the deputy AG she had a date with just few days prior (third date), a man he really hated, because the guy made her laugh and smile and giggle, and Patrick Jane was the only one who was supposed and allowed to make her laugh and smile and giggle. He _wanted _to be the only one to do it. Lisbon loved him, cared about him and he loved Lisbon and cared about her, and it was about time he thought a lesson to Red John, that he showed him that he wasn't going to let his enemy win, keep him away from his heart's desire, he wasn't going to give up on life or _his _Lisbon…

"My, My, My, Lisbon, you are so tense, but I think I may know a way to make you really relax…" still at her back, he lowered himself, so that he could whisper into her ear, and as soon as the words left his mouth, Lisbon took a big breath and gulped. If he thought he could make her relax_,_ he was obviously wrong, because there was no way she could relax if Jane kept doing what he was doing to her _it's not him, the fact that he is the one doing it to me makes it worse, but it's not the fact that he is Jane that affects me… repeat with me, Teresa…_

He proceed to suck voluptuously the lobe of her right ear, the one he had whispered into, while his hands wondered on her body, through the thin fabric of her clothes, in a manner that didn't let space to imagination or to any doubt. He knew where he wanted to go; he knew that he wanted to go there with her; he knew she wanted to go there as well, but was scared, but he knew that he had a way to convince her to go there with him, and Lisbon knew it. _Well, I doubt he'll have to work too much to convince me. I'm pretty sure he managed to as soon as he entered in the room… _

She moaned as his hands lifted her pale shirt and went under it, in search of the tender and already heathen up skin of her breasts, while his mouth had left her lobe to pay the rightful attention to her slender neck, kissing and sucking her sweet spot, the pulse point, making her breath dying in her throat, quickening her heartbeat, making her freeze on the spot… she arched her back, throwing back her head to give him better access, moaning at closed eyes, breathing heavy, intoxicated by his mountain scent, her fists clenched around the armrests so firmly that her knuckles were turning white.

"You just have to say it, Lisbon. If you want me to stop, you just have to say a word and I'll stop…" Jane whispered huskily into her ear between his owns moans, kisses and sucking, his breath as heavy as hers as his hands cupped her breasts through thin green silk and lace, stimulating her nipples with experts fingers.

As he said so, images of the two of them flashed through her eyes, of them naked and entangled fraternizing on that chair, on the couches, on the pavement, on his unused desk… those images made her come back to reality, with her feet on the floor, and only then her mind, her rational side, realized what was going on. _I'm going to have sex with Jane. I'm going to have sex at the office with Patrick Jane. I'm going to have sex at the office with a man who wears his wedding band even after seven years he has lost his wife, a man who'll eventually end up in jail for murderer or dead…_

"Jane, please…no" she begged, fighting back the tears as she struggled with herself to free herself from his marvelous and sweet embrace, moving in the blink of an eye to the opposite side of the room, far away from Jane, her back to him.

"Jane, please… no, as in please, you don't stop it, or as in please I don't want it? Because there's quite a difference, my dear" as he said, joking a bit, almost sure that she was just trying to push his buttons and making him chase after her, he got closer and closer, until he was again at her back. As soon as she felt his presence, him trying to take her back in his somehow strong and muscular arms, she retread farther more from Jane. He remained speechless and astonished, and although he knew that it was something it was going to happen during the night, he thought that other reasons were going to make him in such a state… he took Lisbon by the shoulders, forcing eye-contact, and what he saw in them, it destroyed him. He couldn't believe she was feeling such an emotion, not for him. He had never given her reason to feel that way…

"You… you are scared of me… Lisbon, you know that I'd never hurt you… force you into anything… you know, right?" he didn't know how it was supposed to sound, if it was an affirmation, a question, or a mere request of confirmation. Her eyes, her gorgeous green eyes, were giving away everything they were feeling for him, and it broke him.

"It's not of you that I'm scared of, Jane. It's of what you do to me, what you'll end up doing to me that terrifies me!" she screamed like in agony, unable to hold back the tears, to hide the sufferance and devastation she was feeling because of what he was putting her through, and everything for an _almost kiss, _not even a real kiss..

"Lisbon, please… you know I promised to be at your side not matter what, and that I'd protect you, always, that you wanted it or not, that I'd never hurt you intentionally…" he was facing her, unable to do anything but whisper his plea, as white as a ghost. He couldn't believe it, couldn't handle it… he had wore his heart on his sleeve, and she had rejected him, her, the one who had healed him, taught him to love again, the one who had brought him back into the world, giving him hope and a purpose, the one he loved with all his heart…

"Repeating all your empty promises will not make them real!" she kept screaming "repeating them will not change you or our reality, and I can't allow myself to suffer again, not when I can avoid it! You are going to sleep over it and forget everything;_ we_ are going to forget everything, because I'm not going to allow you to break my heart just because you need a distraction!"

As she stormed out of the office, with tears in her eyes and in her voice, reality struck, and Jane realized what she had meant with her words, what she really was scared of. Watching at his wedding ring and skimming over it with his fingers, he understood how important Lisbon had become for him, and that he was going to win her over, once and forever, whatever it took.

* * *

Preview: "I was at home, having an early dinner with a girl when a local bartender called me to ask me to take him guy, and I didn't even know he was in town in the first place. he just told me to take him back here, because he needed to put things straight with his girlfriend..."


	3. Red Rage

Disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real... I just _"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed by the light of reason..." _(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)- I'm thinking about doing few vodoo on him as well, you don't know how things could work out...

A/n: So,I've been a good girl, seen? you already have part three. Not sure when you'll get part 4, though, it may be tomorrow evening, or the day after tomorrow it depends on when I'll be able to tipe id down. besides, there's this little thing, that I write a story, but once I type it, it comes out duoble what I thought, because I keep adding things over things...

The rating is still T, even if there are part where it could be considered slighty M, for mentions of people thinking about self-preasuring, prople dreaming about how could sex with a certain consultant be like, and a certain consulant saying idiocities about a certain agent supposed fetisches...

* * *

Being the one who had trapped, arrested and questioned the good Doctor, Lisbon had been up all night long, and fir this reason, she and Jane had received the blessing from Hightower to stay at home the next day (wherever home was for Jane) and catch up on sleep, with the promise to be up and bright in two days time-and, maybe, even a bit early.

And Lisbon had tried, only God knew how much and how hard she had tried, to sleep, to close her eyes and end in Morpheus' arms, but she hadn't been able to get more than few naps, and each one of them had been terrible. She had spent the night tossing in her sheets, covered in sweats even if she was wearing only her Lisbon 99 jersey, trapped by the nightmares, like often, even if it had been worse. She often had nightmares, and she often dreamt of Jane, Jane killed by Red John, Jane committing suicide, Jane sentenced to death, Jane sentenced to life…. She usually was able to deal with these nightmares, because she knew of Jane, of his past, his obsession over the murder of the serial killer who had plagued and destroyed his existence. She knew what he had in store for Red John, and, even with her feelings, she had prepared herself for all the possible outcomes. These nightmares were something she was used to, nothing new. She could deal with them.

But dreaming of Patrick having wild sex at the office, on his couch, with Hightower, or of Patrick walking into the sunset with Kristina, miraculously restore to sanity by his love, affection, his efforts, and all thanks to his almighty mentalisitic abilities… no, that, she couldn't deal with, not after what he had done to her, after how he had touched her. She was well aware that Jane hadn't touched her intimately, but it had been enough to awake a sensation in her lower abdomen, an ache between her thighs that she had never felt so strong, a heavenly ache she had, lately, reserved only to Jane-related M rated fantasies, those famous fantasies about naked and entangled and sweating bodies, busy with all the possible positions, in all the possible places, were they private or indecent, slow lovemaking or a quick fuck in his car or in a dark alley, without even bothering to get undressed.

Like all those times she was busy thinking about it, and remembering dreams and building fantasies at open eyes, her hands showed their mind of their own, wondering under her red shirt, ready to skim over her wet folds, where there was that heavenly ache, ready to either increase it or alleviate it, with well known thrusts of her own fingers…

But this time it was different. In shock, Lisbon removed reluctantly her own hand from her groin, a bit sorry, but especially mad. It wasn't because she was a prude that she didn't want to pleasure herself; it wasn't something she had never done before. It was something she often did, especially since her lack of real sex, and always thinking about a certain curly blonde haired, blue eyed consultant of 41, imagining what his hands and his mouth could do to her, how her wet core could react to him, if he was as huge as she thought, and… _Stop! Stop to associate Jane with sex and pleasure! You can't want him!_

"Lisbon! Open the door! We need to talk!" Lisbon didn't know what she registered first, if the stone breaking her window, Jane's drunken voice or the clock in her room, showing the time of 9 pm. _I just want to sleep! I just got few small naps in over 50 hours! _But she still left her bed, and run to open him the door, if not only to tell him something. If there was a time he deserved a lesson, it was then.

"Jane, you idiot, you broke my window!" she screamed with fury s she opened the front door, only to stop and stare as she released that they weren't alone, and that, in front of her, there wasn't only Jane but… his brother in law as well. It took her less than a second to shout the door in their faces and run back into her room, blushing furiously, changing into something that wasn't only the 99 jersey and the 99 jersey only. She didn't care, as much as she was covered; the first thing was going to be fine. _I've been that mad that I had run to him with only the shirt on! _

When she opened again the door, she found Jane with already the fist closed on the door, ready to knock, resting at the same time against the doorframe to not fall and loose his balance and equilibrium, which he lost, once she opened, falling into her embrace.

"Jane…" she hissed at closed teeth, like a viper, while the blonde kept laughing and grinning and was failing at regaining him composure, both physical and mental.

"I was at home, when a bartender called me, telling me my brother-in-law had asked him to call me to collect him since he was wasted. The least I could do was going to take and bring him home, but he asked me to drive him here, instead" Danny tentatively explained, shifting his eyes from Lisbon to Jane and so on "He told me about a fight with his girlfriend, that he had to put things straight… and I know it wasn't such a good idea, but you know him as well as I do, I can be pretty persuasive… even when drunk."

"You have a girlfriend…" she asked, in a whisper, hurt and in disbelief. She should have seen that coming. _The bastard played me!_

"I was talking about you!" he sing-sang, with puppy dog, drunken eyes, potting at Lisbon.

"Jane, I'm not your girlfriend" she calmly stated, fighting the urge to murder him.

"In fact, Danny boy here is wrong. I told him that you are my ALMOST girlfriend!"

"Jane, I'm not your ALMOST girlfriend!"

"Then, you are my girlfriend!" he happily said, hugging and lifting her in the air with few problems, making her spin.

_Good God help me… _she sued to think that Jane was the possible pain in the ass, but drunken Jane, as much as he was a happy drunk, was ten times worse… "I'm neither of those, Jane!"

"But we were going at it in your office, Lisbon. Does it mean that you just want an occasional lover? I can handle that, really. Besides, I've been told that I'm God's gift to the women in the bed department, well, chair department in our case. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. Since I'm God's gift to women, you'll get addicted to me and my gorgeous body, you'll compare everyone you'll try to have sex with, with me, and one day you'll come back to me because you'll just want the real deal! And we'll get married and be happy and live happily ever after because we are meant to be together and we are soul-mates! Did I tell you I think we are soul-mates?"

"Jane…" she hissed again.

"It's true, I'm more than good in bed! Danny and I share a couple of exes since our first days in the carnie, I'm sure they talked about how great I was with him all the time!"

"Jane, really…" she begged, turning to Danny while pinching the bridge of her nose "I'm so sorry, I don't know what it got into him lately…"

"You, you got into me lately! And it's not lately, but from quite a while, a long while, actually!"

"Just, please, I beg you; don't sign anything because of this…"

"A, I'm not on a case, and B, he'd never do it, not when I put our relationship in jeopardy to save his sorry ass!"

"Well, uh, Patrick's kind of family, so it's nothing new here, really, I'm used to it, and, uh, besides, we haven't spoken in seven years, and it's nice to be able to… I mean, in two months we turned into a sort of best buddies, so, yeah, well, it's nothing…"

"I'm pretty sure that no one was going to blame you if you'd abandon him, so, thanks" she said, with exasperation, looking at Jane.

"C'mon Lisbon, I know you want to ask him, let's ask him! Or maybe you should ask me. I know the question. No, I know the answer to your question. Wait, I know them both!" he was looking in the void, with a contemplative expression, like he was looking for the answer to some great problem, some question like, why do we exist, and not talking nonsense.

"Ok, let's hear, where did you go and what did you do?" she turned to face him, furious, ready to kick his ass out of her property.

"She cares about me! Do you see, Danny? She cares! She loves me! Isn't that incredible, that Mother Teresa loves me, of all?" Jane was sing-singing again, laughing, and, as soon as he had opened his mouth, he had collapsed on top of Danny, putting him on the shoulders.

"He told me that he… that he had been to see them, Charlotte and Angela, their graves, I mean."

"But I swear I wasn't drunk back then! I got drunk later! It's just that, well, I talked with Angie, told her it was time to move on, not because guilt is for marks, like our Danny here thinks, it's just that, you know I've been an idiot and a jerk, what kind of question, of course you do. Anyway, I've been an idiot and a jerk, I did a mistake and no, and I'm not going to say it twice. But, I didn't pull the trigger, the dagger, I mean. HE did it. And even if I'll always feel a little guilty, because survivors always feel guilty, I told Angie I was going to give up on Red John for you, Teresa Lisbon, who is amazing, and whom I'm crazy in love with!"

"YOU ARE WHAT?" she shouted in disbelief. She had never, ever felt that way before, her heart to the ceiling, her feet off the floor, and butterflies in the stomach. She couldn't believe what Jane had just told her… was he telling the truth? Was he really ready to give up on Red John because of her, because he was in love with her? If it was true… it if was true, all the reasons to hold back no longer existed, and it meant…

"Silly girl, I said I'm in love with you! You know I do! And that I think you are just amazing!" He screamed, like she was deaf, putting her on the cheeks, like she was a child, with a smile that reached his eyes. For a brief moment, Lisbon didn't care that he was drunk, and felt like jumping on him there and then, the hell with Danny and the rest…

"I heard that, you idiot! I wasn't talking about that!" she snapped, almost hitting him. She took a big breath. _Even if he is an idiot, you can't kill him; after all, he solves cases, at least._

"I'm confused, Lisbon, you don't care of me loving you? But you should be happy, because you love me, and there's nothing worse than unrequited love, but if I love you, it's not unrequited love, and we love each other, we are all happy! But, wait… if you don't care about me loving you, it means I'm losing my touch, because I red you wrong, and if I red you wrong, it means you don't love me, then we are unhappy…no, I am unhappy! I am unhappy because I red you wrong and now you are rejecting me! Because that's what you are doing, rejecting me, right?" and here he was again, talking nonsense, with teary eyes… and she couldn't understand if he was teary because he was drunk or because he felt like a destroyed and broken man who had just lost his only purpose in life.

"Jane, you know, I think we should have this conversation once you'll be sober again…why don't you take a nap on my couch?"

"Well, at least he is a happy and sincere drunk. He tells always the truth. And, by the way, he always remembers everything he said and did while gone; don't ask me how, just, keep it in mind, to maybe use it against him. with him, it can always turn out useful" Danny smiled of a rare smile, as his mind wondered to his teenage years, to that surrogate older brother, the older brother he never had- when younger, he had always looked up to Patrick, because he was the youngest, the only male, and he had been happy when Patrick had "adopted" him, teaching him what he could, experiencing things together.

"Jane, couch." She ordered, seeing that he was still lost in his thoughts (looking at her) and wasn't there yet. She was massaging her temples, hoping that the migraine would leave, once Jane was asleep.

"Yes! I love couches! Did you know that, Lisbon? Of course you did! You know everything there is to know about me! Did you know that I've never tried your couch? But I've tried your bed! Do you remember that time that Carmen tried to frame you? While I was waiting for him upstairs, I went into your bedroom, and I tested your bed, thinking about how I could feel sleeping there at your side, or making sweet love to you… did I ever told you that I want to make love to you, Lisbon? I often dream of that, when I look at you, and I seem lost in my thoughts, it's because in my mind we are together in that bed, naked, and we are making love!"

"JANE, JUMP ON THAT COUCH AND TAKE A NAP!" She screamed, red with fury, pointing at said piece of furniture, fuming. Jane was quite sure that, had she something heavy at hand, it'd be on his head by now….

"But, Lisbon, I want to hold you first!" he begged like a child.

"JANE!"

"Yes sir, sir. Madam, yes sir, madam. Yes madam, madam. How do you say that, Lisbon? Because I'm not sure I know how to say it…"

"JANE!"

"Ok, ok, bye-bye everyone, I'm going to catch a nap on my new favorite couch, just like our beloved Lisbon here orders! Do you know she likes being in control and order around, Danny? And she has a fantasy about domination… She is the dominatrix, obviously. I think it's because I never listen to her… and it's about her, me, handcuffs, a blindfold, and, recently, after a certain case we had worked on, a horse whip. I was the one using it, to make a suspect confess, but I was showing off my abilities right under her nose, right in front of her… It tuned her on in an unbelievable way! Unfortunately, in her fantasy, she is the one using all that marvelous things… I'd not mind using blindfolds on her, or handcuffing her to the bed, completely naked and in my power, finally… I'd not use the whip, though. I could never ruin such a perfect skin." As she sent him a deadly glare, he stopped to sing-song again, and hands up in the air in fake surrounding, throwing himself on the couch, he gave his back to the ceiling, immediately dazing off.

"Sorry that he disturbed you. And, by the way, nothing of what he said it's true; he is just a sick bastard who enjoys driving me mad. With all due respect, of course" she paused, clearly exhausted and exasperated "I can't handle drunken people, never been good at it"

"No, no, really, you don't need to explain it to me, really. I mean, the idiot and I are kind of related, but you are just the babe who arrested me, and..." he paused, realizing what he had done and said, a bit scared "could you, uh, please avoid telling him I called you babe? I think he would not appreciate it. I really don't feel like a repeat of his dead mice trick on my whole wardrobe…"

Lisbon laughed, feeling free, the first time in days. So, when he had done it his first day back with the boss' assistant, the one who kept checking her out and hitting on her, it wasn't something new.

"I swear that I'll talk to him and I'll not avoid the topic any longer, but I want him sober first. I can barely him when he is ok, figures when he is drunk…" _yeah, figures when I can stand a happy and sincere drunken Mentalist, who happens to turn into a fetishist… _

"Tell him to not become a strange again" Danny told in his way out, already near his car.

"I will, and thank you for bothering."

Danny stopped as he heard her voice, turning, smiling charmingly at her, something she was sure he had learned from Jane. "Not a big deal, just a two hour drive with Patrick never stopping saying how great and perfect and beautiful you are, Agent Lisbon."

He was already in the car, the door closed, when he decided to add a last piece of advice. He lowered the glass, and shouted at her, who was still there, looking at him leaving. "Miss Lisbon, you take care, of yourself, of him… and tell Patrick that if he'll not take good care of you, I'll come here to kick his ass, and there will be no kind of hypnosis that will stop me!"

She came back inside, reaching the couch, looking at Jane, already fast asleep there, snoring soundly, a weird and unexpected sight, indeed, because, from whet he had told her, it was seven years he couldn't catch a good night sleep, and she couldn't help wondering if it was because of her, of her presence in that same house, of how close they were, both physically and now emotionally as well.

She kissed his forehead, running her fingers though his soft blonde curls, and when she went to bed, she knew she was going to have the same- a good night sleep.

* * *

a/n 2: you weren't waiting for Danny Ruskin to appear again, right? well, me neither, but I liked the character too much, I may decide to include him in another couple of fics (sometimes, I have this weird idea about him being the new love interest of Lisbon, and jane getting jealous. sorry, my mind owrks like that...)

Preview:" Lisbon could clearly hear a masculine happy and content voice coming from the shower, and blushed, shtting her eyes, when she started to think about how Jane, naked and wet, could look like under the hot water of her shower, and how she could feel if she was there with him, naked and wet, covered with soap under the hot water..."


	4. Red Passion

Disclaimer: seriosuly, do we really have to do it? Because, Jeez, if I'd own them, I'd not be here writing it, I'd be the writeer of a TV Shows and, well, we'd have the LIsbon romance for real... I just _"write, draw, create, dream, hope and believe in Bruno, waiting for him to be blessed by the light of reason..." _(No, this discalimer isn't mine, it belongs to one fo the girls who wite Mentalist fiction on the italian site efpfiction, but don't tell me many of you don't share this vision...)- I'm thinking about doing few vodoo on him as well, you don't know how things could work out...

a/n-final chapter! mention of sex, but still t because it's just mentioned and not described.

* * *

Even if sleep derivate, Lisbon woke up few times during the night, but differently from the previous time, it was never to a bad dreams or a sinister thought. Every time, though, she couldn't keep her eyes open for too long; she was too tired, both physically and psychologically, from the events of the last couple of days to be able to resist, even if she wanted to.

In fact, it didn't took her too long to figure out that every time she had left the land of Morpheus the one to blame was the man who had broken her window, and that had caused the incoming of chilly autumn air into her bedroom, the same man who was responsible for her tiredness, the annoying, pain of her existence, charming, childish, unconventional, off the book consultant called Patrick Jane.

The first time had been few hours after she had left him to nap on her couch. Apparently, during that few hours, he had sobered up enough to be able to walk straight again, but not enough to think about the repercussions (_Wait, no, what am I thinking about? He never thinks about the repercussions of his actions, not even when he is sober)_ of crushing on her bed. Lisbon didn't send him away, though, instead, she welcomed the heat radiated from his body, and the sensation of peace and tranquility that having him in her bed brought. Instead of being scared, as she thought she would be in such a similar occasion, she was smiling happy against his chest.

The second time had been in the late hours of the night, or the early hours of the morning, she wasn't sure. She was just sure that, at a certain point, he had left the bed and the room. She had cried in silence for minutes that seemed hours, endless hours, thinking that he was already regretting his drunken admission of love and everything that had happened between them in that short amount of time… _I knew it was too good to be true, that he wasn't really ready, and that he wasn't really going to stop his absurd quest for revenge… _

Then, the water in the adjacent bathroom started to flow, coming from the shower- just a thin wall separated it from the headboard of the bed, allowing Teresa to hear clearly a happy and content masculine voice, busy singing and humming some jazz song aloud.

At first, she merely smiled, almost laughing, considering how the man felt at easy around her and in her personal space to be so intrusive to use her own shower (and definitely her own shower gel and shampoo), then, as her mind decided to associate the term "shower" with "Jane", she went on world of her own, with thoughts that went from the casual and happy "Jane's still here" to the not so prude and pure "Patrick right now is naked in my shower, covered in soap". Closing her eyes and blushing, she tried to caste the not so pure thoughts away, but as soon as she realized that it couldn't be done, she smiled maliciously enjoying the road her thoughts were taking – besides, she was pretty sure that soon she was going to have the chance to compare reality with her own dreams, and see on her own which Jane was better, if Patrick "McSteamy" Jane or the real deal, which meant there wasn't anything wrong in…

_Drops of hot water were flowing from the shower, and even if the curtains were closed, the vapor had covered the surface of the glass, filling the whole room, making it felt like a sauna. As she walked in room on her tiptoes, Jane still singing at loud, she lost all the clothes along the way, dropping them on the pavement. She slowly joined him under the hot spray, being careful to not make her presence noticeable until her fingernails were marking his back and her teeth his shoulders, making known he was hers and hers only. Patrick groaned in pleasure, and quickly turned, grinning, eyes dark with desire, cornering her. As soon as he took her in his arms, lifting her against the wall, in his embrace, his hands on her ass, her arms around his neck, she found herself mirroring his same expression, and when the hot water started to fall on her as well, her legs went around his hips, and in the same moment she felt a pleasurable ache in her lower abdomen, she felt against her body the…_

"Drop it, Teresa!" she shouted at loud at herself, hiding her head under the pillow, hoping that it could work to erase the vivid image she had in her mind of her and her consultant. _Great, the dirty sexual fantasies of me and Jane at the office weren't enough, now I have dirty sexual fantasies of Jane and me in my shower. I'll absolutely be unable to look at that shower in the same way, from now on… _

She came back to sleep only half an hour later, when he come back to bed at her side, smelling of a mix that were her vanilla shower gel and Jane, like even like that he could maintain a part of his own natural scent, that scent that was so him, so unique, that made her feel so safe. He felt immediately asleep, smiling content.

She was still smiling when she woke up in the morning, maybe even more than when she had fallen asleep, and she really couldn't blame herself. It was just… it was so perfect, everything was so perfect. It wasn't like she regretting the way she had pretty much rejected him just the day before, because she knew that in that moment it was the right thing to do; even if it had been just 24 hours, back then she wasn't ready to admit how deep the feelings for him run, and neither was he, back then, they wasn't ready to face reality, not yet, they were on the verge of carnally consuming their relationship (_At the office!) _and neither of them was ready for that step, not with that much things still unsaid, because she didn't want to simply have sex with Jane, she didn't want for him to just fuck her, she didn't want to have something between them happening just out of lust, she didn't want him just for his body (_Even if he does have a_n _extremely sexy, hot, handsome body and I can't help thinking about how great sex with him will surely be, considering that he is a mentalist and so he knows for sure what a woman wants and how she wants to be touched and where, and I bet that he is even quite well… stop it, Teresa!). _She wanted Jane, the whole package, for the man he was and the man she knew he could be, and she wanted their first time to be special and made out of love, not something quick in her office on a chair. It wasn't like she wanted candles, sexy French lingerie, an aphrodisiac dinner, classic music, incense, silk blankets and petals of roses, but at least she wanted something a bit more special than a fuck at the office, and more private and intimate. And if Patrick continued to keep his hands for himself like he was doing, there was a good chance they were on the same page…

* * *

It wasn't like he regretted his (_pathetic) _attempt of physical seduction of 24 hours before, because at the time he had thought it was the right, and only, thing to do, the only thing he was capable of. It had been too long since he had been in love for last time, seven long years, and even more since the last time he had declared his love to a girl… when he had confessed of his feelings to Angela he had been just a boy, 19 years old, and even back then, words weren't exactly his strength. On stage, when he was the boy wander, the come out easily, like a river, but when he was only Patrick, and he was dealing with something important, they didn't want to get out.

So, at the time, trying to drag Lisbon to bed (figuratively speaking, since it was on a chair they were going to consume their relationship) had seemed a good idea, a good way of showing her how much he needed her. Only, she had misunderstood his attempt, seeing his need only as physical, and not emotional as well (not that he didn't want her also for her body, because many of his nights had been hunted by extremely vivid and M rated dreams of him and the dark raven haired beauty, completely naked, she on top of him, with him handcuffed to the bed with a blindfold on). The result had been that Teresa got scared, thought that he didn't give a damn about her as a person and wanted just to have his way and some fun, and told him that her feelings for him went beyond boss/consultant or friendship, and why she wasn't going to allow herself to get too close to him. She hadn't told him so many words, but the significance had been clear… _I'm scared of what you'll end up doing to me. I'll not allow you to break my heart, not when I can avoid it. _Those were the words that left her lips, and Jane had understood, as soon as she had stormed in tears out of the office, what she meant, what she was scared of. _I've already lost all the people I cared about, and when you'll face Red John, you'll die or go to jail, and I'll lose you as well, and it will break me. _When he had realized that those were the words her soul was saying, he had decided to go to talk to Angela and Charlotte, he wasn't sure why, but he felt he needed… closure, forgiveness, absolution, permission maybe. It was, basically, the same reason he had, later, drove until he had reached Danny's neighborhood, hoping that he would deliver them as well. He knew he couldn't do otherwise, it was the only thing left to do, because a long time ago, he had promised to never hurt _His Lisbon_ and always stick by her side, and looking at her crying, he had realized her wasn't' keeping his word, and that he had to do something about it. Obviously, being himself, he had messed up a bit along the way; he hadn't planned to get drunk, it wasn't in the original plan, only an idiot would show up at Lisbon's door drunk to deliver his heart. Not that he was blaming Danny for having brought him there, the poor boy just didn't want to have to deal with him and his constant requests, and, more important, he didn't know about Lisbon's story with alcoholism. But, really, asking Danny to drive him there, even if well aware of what her father was? Idiot, asshole, self-centered, egoistical, that was what he was.

And he knew it, but he knew also that only the alcohol could have given him the liquid courage to take that decision, because, if there was something Patrick Jane knew, was that he was the living proof of how much true the Latin motto "In vino veritas" was, and he remembered how he had told her _everything…_but he still felt a bit guilty (for showing up drunk, for confessing his feelings drunk, for her broken window) and embarrassed - for the both of them. _Danny definitely didn't need to know about our dirty sexual fantasies and our real almost sex life… _Looking at her sleeping form, he hoped he could still salvage whatever they have going on between them…

* * *

"Sorry" when she finally woke up, the room was engulfed in bright sunny light, penetrating from the large hole in the window, made by Jane himself few hours before, in attempt of gaining her attention. Both on their sides, Jane's chest facing her back, he was whispering sweet (and probably not so true) excises in her ear, his hot breath tickling her neck, his fingers busy trailing a path up and down her arm, slowly, caring, sweetly… and too seductively for their own good. _I'm not sure I'll be able to resist him for long, if he keeps going on this way…_

Lisbon smiled, giggling, a sound so rare that got him already addicted, and Jane decided then and there that no one was going to be allowed to make her sound that way but him. "There's nothing to be sorry of. When I signed with you, I already knew that you meant trouble and that you happened to make more antics than the rest of the whole human race."

She turned in that embrace, resting her head in the crock of his neck, looking at Jane deeply in the eyes, an ocean of blue waves melting into a field of fresh green grass. Without closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply that weird scent, half her (vanilla and cinnamon, her shower gel) and half him, while Jane kept skimming over her arm with his right, playing with her wild natural curly dark hair with the other one, running his fingers through the mass (amazing Lisbon incredibly, she couldn't believe that he had wanted for so long to run his fingers through her hair as much as she had wanted to run her fingers through his own.). With his breath dead in his throat, he looked deeply at her, with complete and utter devotion, like she was a goddess, drinking into the sight that it was Lisbon, almost scared, like it was too good to be true, like this was only another one of those dreams where the both of them were happy and together, with no shadows from the past hanging over their heads.

Without daring to break eye-contact, she forced Jane to move his hands, putting hers in his owns, interlacing their fingers, and it's only then, when she firmly squeezed them, that she felt something, or better, the _lack_ of something. She stared in disbelief at the man in front of her, holding back tears that, for once, weren't of sufferance, something snapped inside of her, fears and insecurities she felt until few hours before gone.

"What you said yesterday…" She'd like to do many things, like ending the sentence or keeping eye contact, but she couldn't, because his eyes were saying, screaming, too much, everything, and Lisbon wasn't scared, but the feeling… she felt like being pulled down by waves, right into the sea, adrenaline, but too much to handle, and she wasn't sure she could handle something so big and deep, but Jane simply stared at her, without adding a word, and only lifted her chin so that they could be eye-to-eye again.

It's not exactly disbelief what she felt towards the man in front of her, she wasn't sure she knew how to describe it. She felt like Jane was bare in front of her, despite wearing fresh boxers and a t-shirt (that she knew belonged to Tommy and he boy kept at her place-she didn't want to know how or when Jane found them).

"I buried it at Angela and Charlotte's graves. It wasn't fair, keeping wearing it while my heart belongs now to you." As he explained her what he did the previous day, he was sad, but there was something else in his voice, something she knew too well. She remembered the time he told her how he was going to kill Red John, how sure and resolute he was, and now, in front of her, stood the same man, only, what he wanted wasn't the life of a sadist murderer, but her, body and soul. "I wanted to go to Danny then, ask for his forgiveness, his permission to move on with my life, but I wanted to clear my mind a little first, I wanted to think about the words to tell you, how to tell you that I love you without risking you not believing me… I thought a bear could help, but I guess I got a bit sidetracked, because I didn't know exactly how to voice my feelings, and I ended as you saw me…" he looked at her with puppy eyes, with that smile of five years old that he knew she couldn't resist even if she wanted to.

"Jane, there wasn't any need to…" There were many things she'd like to tell him, like that there was no hurry, but Jane, with just a finger on her lips, silenced her- she smiled under his fingertips, kissing it erotically, making him shiver with desire. _We're both adults, we're both more naked than clothed, we're both willing. _But he had to go on, because he couldn't leave things left unsaid, not risking losing Lisbon. He couldn't survive life without her, neither if she was lost to death or to another man or to herself.

"Everything I told you in these years, I meant it, Teresa, and last night… I was telling the truth, Teresa. I'd never hurt intentionally you, for this reason and this reason only, I'm going to leave Red John to you and the team. It will not be my hand to take his life"

The space between them was almost zero, but she still nullified it, allowing her lips to touch Jane's with a sweet, slow kiss full of love.

"I love you" she whispered against his lips, with tears in her green eyes but smiling, as they parted of just few millimeters. She caressed his hair, his blonde curls, allowing her finger to run through them, while he removed her tears with his thumbs, kissing every angel of her face but her lips. _Later, we'll have time for that, all the time of the world. _This wasn't about mere passion any longer, now it was time for the truth, the most sincere one, the one coming from his heart, the one she could still accept, making him the happiest man alive, or refuse, making him the most miserable man alive.

"I mislead, manipulate and mess around. I keep you in the dark. I don't listen to you and I don't follow orders or rules. I behave like an idiot. I don't know when I have to stop or when I have to shout up. I put myself and others in danger, sometimes in _lethal danger_. I'm self-centered and selfish, a little crazy, perennially on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and even if I didn't kill any of Red John's victims, a part of me will always feel guilty nevertheless." His voice was calm, feeling so good and well and light after so many years, finally opening up, and revealing who he really was to someone else, finally allowing the walls and the mask to fall, ending the charade, the game, the play.

She answered with a smile and lifted eyebrows, giving him a quick peck on the skin of his chin- he was freshly shaved, and she didn't want to know which razor he used. "Tell me something I wasn't already aware of, Mister Jane"

The look of devotion was back, and, if possible, it was even bigger. He was still astonished and incredulous, smiling happy but astonished and incredulous, and he'd like to hurt himself to check it wasn't just a dream, because it was too good to be true. "You're aware of whom I am, you know what you are getting yourself into, but you still want me…"

Again, Lisbon thrown her arms around his neck, she got closer and closer to the man who stole her heart at first sight, and again her words were whispered on his lips, with sweetest and most intimate gesture of affection and trust. "You do what you are best at, in order to give justice to people and bring them peace of heart. You want to protect me and the people you care about. You are funny and you make me smile, even when I don't feel like it. You speak your mind; you put people back into their place. You make our job a way more interesting, and thanks to you we reach success after success. You always think of the team, me in particular. You are particular and unique. You are sweet, and loving and caring and deep like anyone I've met before" she paused, taking a big breath, still smiling "you are a good person, you try to seem cynical to defend yourself, but I've seen you with children… you are wonderful and beautiful inside and out, when you hold a baby, with that smile, that smile that you reserve for them and them only. Those are all the reasons why I love you"

"Now I'll have it for you too" he held her in his arms, inhaling at closed eyes her scent, deeply lost in the moment. The world could stop, could end, a war could begin. He'd not care, not there, not with Lisbon in his arms, it was perfection, and he could die in peace because he finally learned what perfection was. "That time, I meant it."

She just made a sound that Jane received as an invitation to go on, to explain himself. He said many things. She needed to know what this sad but honest statement meant, what her referred to. "During the Doverton Investigation, when we were posing as husband and wife, I meant it when I told you I love you."

"Really?" now, Lisbon was the one amazed, but Jane could clearly feel the happy smile on his skin. He was already addicted to this feeling, he want to feel her lips on his skin until the end of time.

"Yeah, I didn't know if you felt the same way, but I needed to let it out, so… that way, you couldn't reject me or laugh in my face, because for you it was just an act. And… that day in the crate, I thought… during those last months, we had got closer and… I thought it was finally time to… I thought I was ready; I wanted to tell you, because I had this crazy hunch that you felt the same. I said to myself, there's no way she stands you only because you close cases, there has to be more, she _has _to have deep feelings for you! I really wanted to tell you, but… we got free before I could say it at loud." He stopped to be the usual petulant five years old, he took a big breath, looked away for a while, just to come back to feel Lisbon under his fingertips again, almost on verge of tears, regret, pain and sufferance clear in his voice as never before, sufferance for himself, and sufferance for what he had made to her "And then, as my usual, I pretty much ruined everything because I had to be so stupid to prove Hightower a point by dating Kristina, and then…" He hissed her name, he never cared for her, he was just testing a theory with her, to his and Hightower's benefit, but he wasn't dating her, he didn't love her. He was sorry for what happened to her, but she went looking for it. she knew how Red John's mind worked, but she still decided to play with the enemy a game of cat and mouse, and he knew too well it was for his benefit as she claimed, but for the sake of her business and that only, because he had always knew that she was just like he used to be _before. _

She reached for his chin again, noticing that he was, mentally, alienated himself again, and a simple gesture of her slender fingers on his skin took him back to reality, to _their _reality; there was no Red John now, no Serious Crimes Unit, no CBI, no abusive parents, no bloody past, it was just them, there, in that bed, in each other's arms, for a time that seemed infinite.

"Say it again" if he wasn't so close, he'd never hear her request, a request not made out of desperation or tears, but just that. She wanted to make him say that because she had always liked the sound of the words, those words, from his mouth.

"I love you" this time, he didn't kiss her slowly. It was a kiss full of passion and desire, of years of sexual tension, of frustration and abstinence. It wasn't such a surprise for Lisbon when Jane, still kissing her, quickly made his way on top of her, with his hands and lips repeating what they had made to her the previous day at the office. It wasn't such a surprise for Lisbon that she allowed him to finish it, this time, and she didn't care that there weren't candles, sexy French lingerie, silk covers, incense, an aphrodisiac dinner, classic music and petal of roses. She wanted something romantic, and what could be more romantic that what they just shared? They forgot everything, the only human beings on the planet for a time they couldn't count, they melt into each other, become one, sexually and emotionally, with sweetness, love and pure devotion, the only sounds they heard, their heartbeats and they erratic breathing, moans of pleasure, named cried out in ecstasy as they reach together the edge, their naked bodies covered in sweat, entangled, but satisfied and happy. He remained buried in her after, busy exploring her body with his hands, keeping kissing her with all the passion and the desire he accumulated since the first time he saw her, because he had always been a red blooded man and he could recognize a beautiful woman when he saw one and she was the most beautiful one…

It was only the first time, the first time of a lifetime together, because Jane had decided a long time ago that he was going to make her blood moving again every time her legs would fall asleep, whatever it took. 


End file.
